


Stars

by Foxxi_Is_A_Paradox



Category: Food Fantasy (Video Game)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Stargazing, published separately from my other prompt fics because i love it that much
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-17
Updated: 2019-01-17
Packaged: 2019-10-11 15:21:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17449514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Foxxi_Is_A_Paradox/pseuds/Foxxi_Is_A_Paradox
Summary: There's more to the night sky than dots of light scattered randomly across the unyielding blackness





	Stars

**Author's Note:**

> in case you can't tell, these two are my favourites

Steak isn’t a light sleeper. When he sleeps, he sleeps like a log, dead to the world until he wakes up automatically at 6am sharp to help the other food souls and Master Attendant with the morning jobs. Food souls don’t really need sleep, but most of them have developed the habit of sleeping at night from years of doing so, and simply for convenience and the extra energy boost.

Of course, there are still food souls who don’t sleep, opting to use the night for other things, for time to themselves. Red Wine is one such food soul. Steak has known for a long time that the purple haired food soul doesn’t sleep, though he has no idea where he goes at night. He’s always in the bed across the room they share when Steak goes to sleep, and he’s always already ready for the day when Steak wakes up.

On this particular night, Steak isn’t particularly tired, and his sleep is rather light. So he hears when Red Wine gets up, the floorboards creaking lightly under his feet, the one near the door creaking particularly loudly. Red Wine doesn’t pay it any mind though, after years of cohabiting with Steak he knows he’s a heavy sleeper.

This time though, Steak is awake. He waits for a moment, then sits up in bed. Since he can’t sleep anyway, he might as well find out where Red Wine goes every night. He waits a few more moments, then gets out of bed, carefully opening the door and peeking out. Red Wine is just turning the corner in the direction of the main door.

Shutting the door to their behind him, Steak follows. He finds the main door unlocked. So Red Wine does go out at night. Pushing gently at the door, Steak checks to see if Red Wine is a good distance away. He is, walking in the direction of the training fields. Steak steps out into the darkness of the night, the stars and the faint glow of the lanterns outside the food soul living quarters being the only sources of light.

It’s warm, but there’s a breeze and nice, and the sky is clear. Up above him Steak can see hundreds of stars dotting the cloudless inky black. He keeps his attention on Red Wine, who seems to be heading towards the hill near the training grounds. Makes sense. He does often sit up there while Steak and others are training, basking in the shade of one of the trees atop the hill. Red Wine is not a huge fan of noise and light. Of course he wouldn’t go out to town or anything.

And Steak is right. Red Wine stops on the edge of the hill, just beyond the tree, and sits down. Steak climbs the hill, making no effort to hide his approach. Red Wine’s hearing is above average, he’s probably heard him coming at this point.

Sure enough, when Steak reaches Red Wine, the other food soul doesn’t seem surprised to see him at all. He gives him a glance as he sits down next to him, but he doesn’t say anything. They sit in silence for a moment.

“What’re you doing out here?” Steak asks, eventually.

Red Wine gives him a look that says the answer should be obvious. When Steak doesn’t say anything more, he lets out a breath and rolls his eyes.

“Stargazing.” He says, simply.

Stargazing? Steak looks up at the sky. It’s alight with many bright dots, scattered seemingly erratically all around the vast darkness. He lets out a scoff. Count on Red Wine to do something like stargazing to pass the time.

Red Wine looks rather offended at the scoff. “I’ll have you know, stargazing is a noble pursuit.”

Steak laughs out loud. “Why would you spend your nights staring at randomly placed bright lights in the sky?”

Red Wine turns fully to face him, irritation clear on his face. “Look here,” his tone is indignant. “I don’t remember asking for your opinion on my hobbies.”

Steak shrugs, deciding not to reply. There’s no sense in riling Red Wine up further.

A moment passes, then Red Wine speaks again.

“Also, stars are not random, you imbecile.”

Steak looks at him questioningly. “What?”

Red Wine rolls his eyes. Lifting his hand, he points up at a particularly bright star.

“There’s the North Star.” He points to another star. “If you connect it to that one, then that one, then the one to the left, then that one, and that one” he stops on a star just above a tree in the distance, “It forms the vague shape of a rose.”

Following Red Wine’s movements, Steak sees that the stars do indeed look like a rose.

“It’s the constellation Rosa.” Red Wine says. “And those ones over there form a duck, they’re the constellation Anka.”

Sure enough, they do. Steak can’t help the almost childlike surprise he feels. He’s lived a long time, but he’s never really paid attention to the stars before, he’s never noticed that there was more to them than being twinkling dots in the sky.

He sits and listens to Red Wine as he continues to point out the constellations. For once they aren’t arguing, both transfixed on the stars floating out there in the vastness of space.

Red Wine seems more relaxed than usual, and Steak wonders if it’s because it’s night time, and there’s no pressure, none of the stress that comes with being a food soul, or if it’s just because he doesn’t have to worry about the light and heat of the sun.

The purple haired food soul is actually smiling a little, pointing out the constellations one by one. Steak can’t help but think that for once, Red Wine is the one that’s radiating warmth and passion, like he’s a star himself.

“That one over there is my favourite,” Red Wine says, gesturing to some stars to the left of their vantage point atop the hill.

“They form a wine glass,” the look of pride that is so commonplace on Red Wine’s face is back, but for some reason, it’s not the same as the usual one that Steak finds so insufferable. “It’s the constellation Verre de Vin.”

Steak traces the wineglass up in the sky with his eyes, committing the location to memory before he can stop to wonder why he’d want to remember a constellation that was so closely tied to someone who he wasn’t supposed to be too fond of.

And they sit there, gazing at the stars and talking quietly, at peace for once. They’ll probably be back to bickering in the morning, but for now it’s like that underlying connection they have which neither of them address but both acknowledge the existence of has magnified and surrounded them, and neither of them can find it in themselves to fight it.

So they sit there, and Red Wine shows Steak the stars, till the sun comes up over the distant forest line.


End file.
